Whispers
by OutCold
Summary: One brief rebellion during Scar's reign. Includes my attempt at a song. Attempt being the operative word. "So pay attention and you'll hear it. And then you'll understand. They animals whisper. Mufasa." Rated for violence at the end . . . not bad, but .


_Disclaimer: This is a new level of absurdity. You think I own The Lion King? Well, I'm flattered, really, but has anyone ever suggested you see . . . someone . . .? No? Okay . . ._

_A/N: So it is impossible to write a Lion King song? The actual writers just had to go and make the things so damned good, didn't they?_

_A/N2: Idea came to me while watching the bit in where Scar's snapping people's (animals . . . okay, Zazu and one of the hyena's) heads off for saying 'Mufasa' because it's against the law. If you cared._

* * *

If you listen closely, you can hear the whispers. The forbidden word, creeping round, spreading out further with each passing second, reaching all the animals in the Pride Lands one by one. It has become more than a name, more than a lion, more than a king. It is a reminder of a time, not so long ago, but rapidly disappearing into the past, when they were healthy, happy. It is a spark of hope, flying tentatively off of lips, softly reaching ears. It embodies the small part of each animal that dares to have optimism, dares to have dreams. To some it would seem amazing that one word can do all this, but it can. So pay attention and you'll hear it. And then you'll understand. The animals whisper. _Mufasa. _

A young lioness presses her mother on. She was just a child when Mufasa lived, but her memories are full of light and joy. Now she sees only greyness and pain. Her father stays in their cave, he's ill. He grew up with Mufasa, and he tells his daughter stories now, just to see the smile in her eyes. Mufasa may be dead, but he is all they have. He stands for the rights they are now stripped of, the liberty they no longer have. He wants to stay and keep telling her the stories, but he's so tired. He's barely eaten for days. He sees Asha pushing her mother into the mouth of the cave, and closes his eyes.

Asha knows the second she sees him, but probably because she's known for days. Her father was ill. He couldn't survive this kind of living. She gently prods him with her paw, but there's no response. She cries, for his death, for how he died.

_There was a time, not so long ago,  
Though it seems a world away now,  
When we lived without fear or worry,  
And I can barely remember how._

_We took it all for granted,  
Our long, lazy . . . lost days,  
We never went hungry or thirsty,  
We had no need for faith._

_How can everything change,  
Without so much as a warning?  
Why was there no indication,  
Why were no storm-clouds forming?_

_Left to this alliance with evil,  
And a king we can't help but despise,  
A cruel look over his features,  
He thinks we don't know when he lies._

_And I see the hurt all around me,  
And the death and chaos and pain,  
I can't help but have this one thought,  
I know everyone else thinks the same._

_We'd still all be happy,  
We'd still all be strong.  
If we just had . . Mufasa  
Nothing would have gone wrong._

She hesitates over the Mufasa, the law decrees she can't say his name, and certainly not aloud, but she does anyway. She doesn't care. The mournful ballad spreads now like the whisper, the words curling out of the mouth of her cave and reaching the other lions, reaching the other animals. Nala hears the voice begin to falter, and takes the chance to join the closest thing to a rebellion that there has been.

_  
We'd still all be happy,  
We'd still all be strong.  
If we just had Mufasa,  
Nothing would have gone wrong._

_I can still see him standing,  
And Simba by his side,  
A sight that warmed the hearts,  
Of every lion in the Pride._

Asha hears the one voice, and then two, and then three, all singing her song, everyone joining. She smiles and begins again.

_I see the hurt all around me,  
And the death and chaos and pain,  
I can't help but have this thought,  
Everyone else thinks the same._

_We'd still all be happy,  
We'd still all be strong.  
If we just had Mufasa,  
Nothing would have gone wrong._

She pads out of the cave, to see the lions all standing, all singing, and they look like they are waking from a deep sleep. Her mother walks to her side, and looks with pride at her daughter.

From Pride Rock, Scar can hear the song. He silently moves to the front of the rock, to watch. His ears single out the first voice. Still no one has noticed him. He retreats again, and bounds down.

It stops when they see him, as terror constricts their throats, but Asha steps forward again, walks deliberately to the middle of the group. Nala glances around, then her jaw sets and her eyes harden, and she walks too.

_We'd still all be happy,  
We'd still all be strong.  
If we just had Mufasa,  
Nothing would have gone wrong._

Scar looks straight at them, but they've made their choice. They continue to sing. He stalks toward them. He stops, and turns his head slightly. His nose is a centimetre from Asha's and she can feel his breath blowing over her. He can hear her heart pounding. Still she goes on, she can't stop now. Slowly, his mouth twists into a sneer. Like lightning, his hand jerks upward, his claws snap out. They sink into the top of her cheek, and he drags them downward. She can feel the skin and tissue ripping, her whole face feels as though it is alight. She falls to the ground, and whimpers. Nala starts toward her, but Scar blocks her. No one else dares to try and help. Satisfied, Scar prowls away again. His paw leaves a trail of blood in the dirt.

Asha drags herself up, head bowed in shame. She can't bear to meet anyone's eye. She retreats into her cave, and soon so do all the others. She lies beside her father's body, her tears matting his fur, and agonisingly falling into the slashes. Her mother rests beside her, but doesn't speak, sensing the mood of her daughter. Asha appreciates being left alone with her five scars and the weight of her failure.

The song ends. But the whisper goes on. It has to. It's all they have left. So pay attention and you'll hear it. And then you'll understand. The animals whisper. _Mufasa._

* * *

_Ugh, that looks so short. I worked my arse off on it. Horrible. I hate it when that happens._


End file.
